


Deviate

by Trillion_G



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Interspecies Sex, Post-Divorce, Promiscuity, Promiscuous Sarek, Recreational Drug Use, Teenage Rebellion, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26973724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trillion_G/pseuds/Trillion_G
Summary: Sarek went through a short rebellious stage in his youth upon his first visit to Earth. But now he's settled down to walk the path expected of him by his parents leading to his upcoming promotion to Vulcan ambassador to Earth.Meeting a human woman at a Federation holiday party brings back memories of his youthful trysts with humans.Pre-TOS Pre-Disco
Relationships: Amanda Grayson/Sarek
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	Deviate

Surak was a fool!

How could anyone possibly reject the greatest pleasures of sentience such as hope, longing, desire, or love? Well, perhaps it was easier for a Vulcan man who had never shared a night with a human woman.

In the quiet moments of clarity in between marathons of pleasure, Sarek couldn’t ignore the notion that he was behaving most illogically. The sting of shame always followed the come down, but guilt and shame were also illogical, and he simply couldn’t allow himself the decadence of feeling too much at once. By morning, he would have gathered it all together (the shame, pride, giddiness, triumph, all of it) and stuffed it away. 

Let all those dangerous emotions war it out deep inside as his years of training and discipline filled his mind again. It allowed him to suppress the annoyance and frustration as he maneuvered his way out of his lovers’ beds as tactfully as possible. Always their bed; never his own.

These human women were often extremely illogical but were equipped with a wonderful resilience and flexibility. Though Sarek’s sexual experience was limited solely to human women so far, he imagined a Vulcan lover might be less inclined to let him talk his way out of the situation in which he was currently embroiled.

As he fastened his many layers of clothing back into place, the woman pressing against his back ran her hands over his chest and shoulders. “One more go, you devil?” She leaned close to whisper into his pointed ear. “I bet you can get one more out of me.”

As the robes layered on, so did the logic and discipline. Sarek made a note to explore the illogical correlation during his morning meditation. He turned away from the mirror above his lover’s dresser and pushed her away slightly to hold her at arms’ length. “Emma, you are exhausted and, I would estimate, dehydrated. In 4.6 hours, you must be present in Stellar Cartography lab.

“I’ll skip it,” the brunette insisted as she flopped on her bed, her mass of coiled hair fluffing in a cloud around her head. Sarek’s acute vision detected small tremors running through her body before he turned back towards the mirror to finger comb his stick-straight hair.

“There is no logic in neglecting your studies in the pursuit of sexual gratification.” Sarek pushed down a swell of pride when her dark skin tinted slightly rosy at his words. He knew many human women were aroused at hearing taboo or private (or downright filthy) words in his crisp, Vulcan tone.

“And what about your studies? Or are you some kind of deviant who made up a whole backstory just to get into my pants?” she asked through a yawn. Already, he could hear her heart rate slowing.

He ignored the suggested slight. “Vulcans require far less sleep than many species including humans. In addition...” He looked over his shoulder at her prone and naked form. “I am much further in the curriculum than my instructor ever intended.”

**********

It had been a half truth of the kind in which Vulcans excelled. Sarek was exactly where his tutors intended him to be in his formal academic work. But his extended visit to Earth with his forefather and his mother was described imprecisely as ‘familiarizing oneself with the citizens and denizens of the planet’. He knew that exceedingly frequent sexual encounters was not the intention of the directive.

But if his forefather or his mother ever knew about his evening activities, they did not speak of it. He suspected his father would be less reticent, but Skon was serving as ambassador to Andor and had yet to travel to Earth while Sarek was visiting.

At twenty, Sarek’s future was determined by his forefathers’ lives: complete a few advanced degrees from the Vulcan Science Academy, serve as a diplomat, marry his Vulcan betrothed from a powerful family, bear one or more children (continuing an unbroken line of sons would be preferable), age into a stodgy, rigid husk, and store his Katra in the ancestral halls. A most logical progression. No need to stray from that outline.

In the words of the woman with which he shared Monday night, “Fuck that noise.”

The entirety of his race was obsessed with “tradition” and “supposed to” and “should.” Where was the logic in constraining one’s self with such cultural limitations? Sarek craved to blaze his own path and write his own future. Disappointment and shame were emotions, and his parents and forebears would simply have to suppress them if they wished to remain faithful to Surak’s teachings. 

He spent most of his daylight hours outside the walls of the embassy, touring educational halls and research facilities near San Francisco. Humans had achieved much even before First Contact, with some of their research facilities rivalling Vulcan’s. He could not see the logic in committing the entirety of his education to only the Vulcan Science Academy. Perhaps he would find one of these fascinating human women to be compatible, and he would relocate to Earth, or Mars, or another colony. 

And why stop at Humans? There was an entire data bank of emotional species he could explore.

Sarek tried to picture it: a lifetime of sharing a home, a life, a bed with an emotional woman. She would be full of life and curiosity. She would whisper the most creative interjections in his ear as he leveraged her unsuppressed emotions to push her mind and body to new heights. In his mind’s eye, the shape and countenance of the imagined partner morphed fluidly, but always seemed to bear human resemblance. Slight, giggling, wine-red blood vessels dilating until she was practically a glowing sunset. The four-chambered heart beating from the just left of medial above pillowy breasts.

Of the practicalities of a human mate: he would face adversity as it arose. He would present his parents with logical arguments for his choice, though as he was an independent adult there should be little reason why their opinion should bear much weight. He wondered only briefly about the mechanics of  _ pon farr _ . He knew that sometimes individuals could be injured or killed during the time of consuming fires, but he would simply have to discipline himself to retain enough control to avoid damaging his weaker human mate. He had not yet experienced his first Time, but he predicted that there must be some methods for maintaining control.

And of children, he thought very little. If she wanted them, they would consult fertility and genetic experts to combine their DNAs. But Sarek felt little drive to produce progeny. Frankly he was grateful that he did not have to concern himself with the prospect of unintended pregnancy with his string of human lovers.

Yes, it was decided: he would shed the mantle of expectation and tradition to plot his own course. Let his younger brother enter the diplomatic corps if his father were so demanding of an unbroken line of ambassadors.

That was not the life Sarek wanted. He was determined to deviate from that structured course of stringent expectations.

**********

Half a century later, Sarek, senior aide to the ambassador to Earth, in line to promote very soon to ambassador, surveyed the crowd of people at the Federation winter party. It bore little resemblance to the human parties of his youth. Alcohol was free flowing, but absent were further recreational substances, inadequate but artistic lighting, music so loud that hearing protection was required for a Vulcan, and sweaty bodies tightly packed in writhing clusters.

He had only been to three of those parties before, decades ago. 

At the age of twenty Terran years, Sarek made a scientific discovery: when a Vulcan (unintentionally) ingested methylenedioxymethamphetamine, his psy abilities were acutely enhanced to the point that another Vulcan (such as an aid to the Federation ambassador) 3.01 kilometers away could clearly detect his (most disarranged) thoughts.

His unapproved cultural mixing immediately came to an end when the aid dragged Sarek bodily out of the house party. After enduring lectures and frowns and questions from his mother, all while “coming down” from the psy-altering substance, he was promptly shipped back home to Vulcan. From there, his life progressed in exactly the course laid out since before his birth. 

It was going exactly as his parents demanded... until his wife unexpectedly invoked  _ kal-if-fee _ at the beginning of his most recent Time just months ago. The subsequent dissolution of his bond to a woman that was practically a Vulcan princess was painful, embarrassing, and most assuredly not what his parents intended.

But he did not wish to dwell on such matters at a party. Sarek mentally recalibrated, steering his thoughts away from the past to consider the present. This party was incredibly tame in comparison to those in his frenzied visit to Earth in his youth; though, contrasted to Vulcan gatherings, it was still unorganized and confusing.

“I thought you might have been meditating.”

He turned his head to view the source of the non-sequitur. A human woman stood .96 meters to his right. Though her close-cut dress was customary for North American human festivities, it was not lude even by Vulcan standards. She was of average height for a human female and appeared to be a young adult, though Sarek still sometimes had difficulty determining human ages on sight.

Though he could not precisely resolve the reason, he found her to be most aesthetically pleasing.

“While my thoughts were deep and lingered on a particular thread, I was not in mediation.” He endeavoured to interpret her expression and body language to determine if she was attempting to start discourse or was simply engaging in what humans called “small talk.”

“Hmm,” she replied in a non-committal way that did nothing to help Sarek determine her intentions. “Amanda Grayson.” She held up a Vulcan salute. “ _ Dif-tor heh smusma _ .”

“ _ Dif-tor heh smusma _ ,” he returned in surprise, raising his hand. “I am Sarek. May I remark that your accent is most convincing?”

Her slight smile split into a full grin. Sarek wondered if the unexpected sensation in his lower abdomen indicated that he would soon be experiencing digestive distress.

“So… is this party a snooze by Vulcan standards, or just Human?”

“‘A snooze.’ You designate this party as boring, without merit or sufficient entertainment?”

“Got it in one,” she replied, still smiling. She maintained unbroken eye contact with him as she sipped from her cocktail glass of creamy white liqueur.

Without explanation, Sarek’s mind was propelled backward. Memories of sweaty skin, friction, and murmured pleas overwhelmed all other thoughts. Wet lips smashing against his, panting humid air into his eager mouth. A tongue in places his wife’s (ex-wife’s) never ventured.

Well, he was mere months past an unfulfilled  _ pon farr _ . That was a most reasonable explanation for his uncontrolled erotic thoughts.

“I…” He strove to quell his inner turmoil and complete the thought. After clearing his throat he succeeded: “I was reflecting 5.4 minutes before our conversation that this gathering is most disorganized and chaotic by Vulcan standards.”

“So you’re here for the wild party?” she mused.

“On the contrary. This is far from the most ‘wild’ party in which I have been in attendance.”

Why did he admit such a personal thing to this woman? He made a mental note to spend extra time in meditation this evening to put order to his unacceptably unordered mind.

He struggled to interpret her expression as she turned her feet directly towards him and moved 6.3 centimeters closer to him. “Are you full of surprises, or are you in the habit of admitting your biggest secret to inconsequential girls at parties?”

“Amanda, I have travelled to many star systems compared to the average being in our current time. I have yet to meet a single person that I would deem inconsequential.”

Her expression turned immediately from playful to serious. She bit her lip, and his stomach again sent him alarming messages.

“I was here with a date, but…” She gestured towards a table lined up with rows of bubbling golden liquid. A gaggle of men surrounded an attractive Deltan woman (though Sarek had yet to meet a Deltan who could be classified as unattractive by human standards). One, a tall blond man in a Starfleet uniform, seemed particularly enamored of her and was unable to refrain from touching her arm and back frequently as he spoke with her.

“Ah, most species of humanoid males are simply unable to control their reaction to an unfamiliar Deltan female upon initial encounter. It is customary to overlook such behavior as long as it does not continue.”

He regretted that he could not determine if it was his words or the situation that made Amanda look unhappy. “My date is the blond lieutenant. He’s an adjunct linguistics professor at a local university, and the Deltan is his teaching assistant that he interacts with daily.”

“Ah. Then your displeasure with his crass behavior is indeed understandable.”

Amanda sighed deeply, then gave Sarek an effervescent smile that would be most inappropriate on a Vulcan. But Sarek found himself drawn 8.9 centimeters closer to her. “Want to get out of here?”

“I am aware of all exits from the ballroom. If I found reason or desire to vacate, I would choose to depart from the Southwest exit which leads to an unmarked alley connected to Balboa Street.”

“Forgive me for speaking imprecisely.” Though her statement was neutral, he sensed she intended some form of jest. “Do you want to leave this party at this current moment and join me?”

“I am amenable to this suggestion. Do you have a destination in mind?” When had he moved closer to her? He had always found the combination of facial muscles and light refraction in the protective aqueous layer of the eyes that was unique to humans to be most appealing.

“I know a great little coffee bar a few blocks away. Open all night. I grade my students’ assignments there sometimes when I need to get some space from my roommate. I find it to be a great place to people watch.”

“You are a teacher. A most honorable profession. ‘People watching’ is an activity that benefits my professional skills greatly. Let us depart for your suggested terminus.”

Though Sarek had resigned himself to walking a predetermined course plotted by his forefathers, a single evening stretching into the night and into early morning hours in the company with a small human uncovered an ingress to a most unexpected track.

This deviation from the expected was most unexpected.


End file.
